Entanglement
by conventionalfallacy
Summary: "Go ahead, Jeremy." She leaned over towards him, spidery veins trailing down her face, every word somewhere between a hiss and a purr. "Kill me."


_For Olivia, because she asked to be entertained._

_I own nothing of the Vampire Diaries._

_Jerbekah, set between 4x07 and 4x09._

* * *

**Entanglement**

"Rebekah?" Jeremy clenched his fists, backing up until he hit the wall. This was one drawback to living with Matt that he hadn't expected. Of course the Original would come over when it was just him and his stakes in the house. "Matt's not here."

"Oh? He's not?" She leaned casually against the doorframe, content to watch Jeremy from across the kitchen. Despite the question in her voice, Rebekah looked anything but surprised. "Hm."

"You could… you could check the Grill?" His hands shook and he couldn't quite look at her. The instincts to leap at her, to snap the leg off of a table, use the wrong end of a knife -_anything_ - to try and end this vampire's life were overwhelming. Logically, he knew he couldn't. No one had left any white oak just lying around, unfortunately. Nonetheless, the desire to kill her pulsed so strong in him that it was almost nauseating. "He's working. Rebekah… It's not… Not good to be here right now."

She laughed and tossed her hair. "You can't kill me. I see no reason to leave."

"Rebekah!" Jeremy growled. He didn't want to do this, be this. But he'd almost killed his own sister, and his attachment to the blonde Original didn't run near that deep. Problem was, she'd kill him first. "Please go."

"No." She took an elegant step forward, watching him. What ran in this family, that the doppelganger's cousin turned out to be a Hunter? Or maybe it was just bad luck. The curse of Mystic Falls. Once, Jeremy had been nothing, but now… Now… She held out her hand towards him. "No."

"What do you _want_?" His limits were being stretched. She marveled at the self-control he'd shown up until now, honestly. Even knowing that he didn't know how to kill her, what was that desire like? Did it pulse as strong as bloodlust? Could they sate it in each other; her on his blood and him on driving stakes into her, over and over, until something broke in them and for a moment everything was quiet?

Instead of explaining, Rebekah reached for his hand. No, not his hand. The back of it, where she knew the mark was. Her fingers brushed his skin, other hand extending to pin Jeremy's wrist to the counter. He might not be able to hurt her, but he didn't have the right to try. "What… What does it look like?"

"What does…" Jeremy frowned, staring into the ice blue of her eyes as if he could find answers there. She was so close to him he could barely breathe, but her power so far outstripped his that he could do nothing about it. He swallowed and tried again. "What does what look like?"

Slowly, Rebekah slid her fingers around his other wrist, running one up the inside of his arm and sending a completely different kind of tremor through him. She leaned in, staring at him. She was the huntress. This was her turf. "The Mark," she hissed. "Describe it to me."

Jeremy looked down at his hand, at the flames snaking across it. They disappeared up into his shirt, nowhere near as extensive as Connor's, but not bad for such a new Hunter. The ink felt like it pulsed under his skin, beating in time with Rebekah's breaths. She didn't have to, but maybe it was habit. He wanted to end it. She was so close, so alive. "It's like tridents. There's flames around it - like the symbol that gets carved on the stakes. And then it keeps going, up my arm… Why," he was going to lose his courage or his will to keep talking to her or his mind if he didn't just ask now, "why do you care?"

Her eyes held the weight of all of her thousands of years, the blood and the hate and the love and the sadness, all in one. "Someone I knew had one. Once. A long time ago. Yours is smaller." As if in a trance, she trailed her hand up and down his arm, touch deceptively light for the force behind it. "But you haven't killed as many vampires, have you?"

He scoffed. "Let me go and we'll see if I can add another one to that list."

"Go ahead." Rebekah let him go, turning her back and taking a few steps away before she threw back a hard, burning look. "Kill me. Try."

Jeremy splintered the cutting board and lunged at her, but Rebekah was faster. She flashed around the other side of the kitchen island, leaning over it, hands clenched on the cold marble. "Go ahead, Jeremy." She leaned over towards him, spidery veins trailing down her face, every word somewhere between a hiss and a purr. "_Kill me_."

He launched himself towards her again, over the counter, managing to ram the wood into Rebekah's shoulder. With a snarl, she ripped it out and shoved him back. Pans clattered to the floor, cooking implements flying everywhere under the force of their fight. It was really a miracle the structure remained intact. When Rebekah lashed out with her nails, Jeremy caught her arm and they were suddenly face to face, breathing heavily. Everything teetered on the edge of a war.

"Your sister's not here," she taunted, not even sure what she was getting at.

A strangled laugh burst from Jeremy's throat. "Good."

Neither of them could have said who kissed the other first, but all of the sudden their lips crashed together. Rebekah's hands rose, tangling fiercely in Jeremy's hair, and he pushed her back into the counter with such force that her hips would have broken, had she been human. She just moaned, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. The flavor exploded in her mouth, rough and masculine and feverish. She wanted to bite him again, press her mouth to every part of him, know this Hunter for the way he tasted without even having to touch. But Jeremy wasn't having any of it, yanking his mouth away from hers for a moment and glaring at the Original beneath him. "No," he ordered.

"No?" Rebekah laughed, sliding up onto the center island and hooking her legs around Jeremy's waist, her heels pressed into his ass until there was barely an inch of space between them. "What are you going to do about it? Stake me?"

In answer, Jeremy reached up and ripped her shirt, sleeve fluttering uselessly to the floor, exposing her shoulder and part of her bra. Without warning, he leaned in and bit her skin right above the collarbone, digging his teeth in with supernatural force and sucking hard enough to bruise. When he pulled away, blood stained his lips, an odd contrast to the almost apologetic kiss he placed against her neck. "You bite me, I bite you back."

Rebekah inhaled sharply, heat pooling in between her legs. Yes, he might want to kill her, but the way they kissed caused her muscles to clench in anticipation, and from the way he was half-hard just from kissing her (biting her, fighting her), she knew he wanted this just as much. She knew a Hunter and a vampire could fuck, so why did this have to be any different. Eyes hooded with desire, she leaned in, a hair's breath away from Jeremy's lips. "And if I fuck you?"

"I might kill you." He wanted to, but he wanted her too and his hands were already running up the plane of her stomach, dancing across the heat of her skin in an unplanned quest upwards.

She moaned at his touch, arching her back into it (_more, harder, please_). "Try."

The rest of her shirt shredded in an instant, and Jeremy's mouth fell to her breasts, latching onto one and swirling his tongue around it through the lace of her bra. "Fuck… you," she whispered. Her nails scraped against his scalp and she dragged the rough point of her heel up his back, lifting his shirt with the shoe. "Oh," her words faded into a breathy moan ending in raw desire. The untended breast ached for touch and a pulse throbbed between her legs, where she was slick with desire. Rebekah ground hard against Jeremy's hips, pressing her center against the punishing hardness of his erection through his jeans.

He pulled back and she swore colorfully, glaring up at him. "Jeremy Gilbert, I swear if you don't fucking fuck me right now…"

"Relax." He shot her a grin, half affection and half violence. "Can't fuck you dressed."

"Well, you could," Rebekah muttered. Mollified, she reached forward and slid her fingers under Jeremy's shirt, running her palms leisurely up his abdomen, relishing the way his muscles twitched, his whole body responding to her touch as she slowly peeled his shirt from his body and let it dangle from one finger, falling to the floor. Now it was his turn to groan as she let her hands loose, one hand working his belt and the other cupping him through his jeans, providing just enough pressure to make him need her without any relief.

In a single frustrated swipe, Jeremy yanked off his jeans, stepping out of them and back towards Rebekah. "Happy?" he growled, his eyes raking her body in a way that made her purr.

"Almost." Reaching behind her back, Rebekah flicked the clasp to her bra and tossed it haphazardly across the kitchen, before kicking off her pumps and peeling off her skintight jeans and panties. The unmistakable smell of her arousal hit the air, making Jeremy's eyes dilate, his fist clench as she just smirked and slipped back up onto the counter, cold marble pressed up against her with an intensity that was either pleasure or pain but mostly just desire.

"Right, well." He stood up against her, frozen. His hands snaked around her ass, grabbing it hard but making no move to do anything. Rebekah groaned. Did she have to do _everything_? She rolled her hips impatiently against his, his cock pressing nicely against her clit. A whine slipped from her mouth and Rebekah repeated the motion, glaring at Jeremy with all the self-composure she could muster. If he wasn't going to get her off, she'd do it for herself.

He got the message. In a swift motion, Jeremy entered her, one hand bracing her, the one with the mark bracing them both as he fucked her hard atop the kitchen island. Rebekah made a noise of incoherent pleasure, her legs wrapped so tightly around Jeremy she was surprised he could still push into her with such force, leaving her almost empty before filling her completely again, friction winding the coil in her lower belly ever tighter. She seized the back of his neck and kissed him, their tongues battling for dominance. At the swipe of Jeremy's tongue across her fangs, trailing the roof of her mouth, Rebekah felt her walls spasm involuntarily around him, the answering buck of his hips making her cry out from the force of it. They hurtled towards their respective orgasms together, sensation and adrenaline burning both of their skin, making every point of contact hypersensitive with consuming desire.

Rebekah snapped. She threw her head back, whimpering Jeremy's name as her orgasm crashed over her in a roll of white pleasure, her entire body shaking around his, clenching impossibly tightly around him. She didn't remember fucking Hunters feeling this good, but then again it was hard to remember her own name when he pounded into her like that. She heard more than felt Jeremy's cry as he too came, still somewhere far away in her mind.

Satiation set in slowly, and with it awareness. Rebekah Mikaelson was draped around Jeremy Gilbert on the Gilbert family kitchen island, with pots and pans scattered all over the floor and little droplets of blood all over. Plus, her shirt was destroyed and Matt might be home soon. Rebekah laughed as Jeremy pulled out of her and slipped off of the counter. She wasn't sore, per-se, but used in all the right ways. "Well, good thing your sister wasn't home." She shot him a self-satisfied grin, looking around for her bra. "I'd hate to have her know I fucked both of her boyfriends first and then her little brother."

Jeremy rubbed a fist over his eyes. "Please, don't remind me of that part." At least his Hunters violence seemed to have ebbed out of him a bit. Sex eased all sorts of tensions.

Rebekah just shrugged, pulling on her clothes and shoving her shirt in the trash. "I'll try." Liar. She'd say whatever she wanted. "As fun as this has been, I was actually on my way to see Nik. He might be a bit worried about me." She handed him his jeans, keeping his shirt. He'd ruined hers, and she needed something to walk through town in. Besides, she liked that it smelled like him. Though she showed little of it on the surface, it was taking everything Rebekah had not to fall back into his arms, yank him upstairs to his bed and show him everything vampires knew about pleasure. But she was the girl who loved to easily, and she ought to have learned her lesson by now. For the moment, this was enough.

"Wait." Jeremy placed a hand on her arm. "Will I… see you again?"

A Cheshire-cat grin split Rebekah's face. "Possibly." She leaned in just to lick his bottom lip, sucking away all the remnants of their combined blood before pulling away and sashaying towards the door. "I can be awfully unpredictable."

She'd just opened the door when Jeremy called out again. "Rebekah!"

She turned her head. "Hmm?"

Her used panties hung from his index finger, held with a mixture of fear and fascination. "I think you forgot these."

The Original shook her head. "They're a souvenir." And with that, she walked out of the Gilbert house, closing the door on Jeremy, leaving him with a mess and some very vivid memories.


End file.
